


Hopelessly Devoted to You

by spockina



Series: The Old Fics™ [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Other, Slaine friendship, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 06:17:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2497628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spockina/pseuds/spockina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm not the first to know, there's just no getting over you... I'm hopelessly devoted to you… But now, there's nowhere to hide, since you pushed my love aside, I'm out of my head…" - This is a past!Klaine, Blaine-centered, with bffs!Slaine fanfiction. And just angst, really. Just a bunch of angst. Rated M for suicide. You were warned. [[[Can you believe this utterly 2010 summary? I'm shook.]]]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hopelessly Devoted to You

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. I’m currently on the process of uploading some finished works I have scattered around the internet. Forever ago I had a fling with Glee – and while a ship never dies in my heart, my love for the fandom tragically will – so I wrote this. In fact, I’ve written other stuff for Glee, and mostly for my favorite ship (which happens to be Slaine), but I can’t bring myself to post them so, yeah, well. Anyways, I wrote this and it’s so over-the-top angsty I felt like my duty to the world was to let this one stay up because this is RIDICULOUS. Forgive any mistakes; my younger self never liked to work with betas.
> 
> *I don't remember when it was written anymore. 2012? Don't know. Don't care.
> 
> Love,
> 
> Spockina.

_

Late at night, when all rooms are dark and cold, and most of them silent, except for some David Letterman or Jimmy Kimmel on televisions, that faint voice could be heard. It was slow singing, or maybe just talking, really, but it could be heard. If you paid attention to the wind, you would hear it. The wind took it to all of the lonely, guilty, in love hearts that were around.

 _"Since you pushed my love asi-ide, I'm out of my head…"_  

"Blaine, shut up!"

"I'm sorry, Sam."

"Sure. And go to sleep."

So close, yet so far. The new New York Conservatory for Contemporary Artists was way too close to Kurt. Yet so, so far. Now they are friends. Just friends in all its glory. Except there's no glory in being "just friends", really.

Earlier that evening, Blaine had dinner with him. And with Rachel. And with Sam. And George.

Kurt's new boyfriend.

He was happy. All the evening, there wasn't a moment when his smile faltered, or when he looked at any other person that wasn't George. He's a handsome kind of guy, not at all like Blaine. Tall, blonde, blue eyes and muscular. Just an average American boy- man.

It's been two months since they started dating, and today's meeting was for a specific purpose: the announcement of the love birds moving in together! And as everyone cheered, Blaine (who time turned into a quiet kind of guy) smiled, feeling like passing out.

Feeling like passing away.

It took only a second for Sam to look down at him, a more than meaningful smile plastered across his lips, and Blaine felt safe, reassured. He smiled back. But he still felt like passing away.

When they headed back to their dorm, Sam told him it was ok to cry, but that it was time to move on. Blaine loved Sam, really. He was  **the**  best friend. Any other person would be sick of him and his unrequited-old-love, but not Sam. The blonde kept him going on, and never pushed him too far, and he was just thankful for that.

Plus, besides Kurt (and the prom day, that was long forgotten), Sam was the only living person allowed to see Blaine's curly hair, and that was saying a lot.

But Blaine didn't sleep that night. The night was almost abnormally cold, and the sky was almost black. He felt as if something was calling his name, and it was so inviting, his name sounded so warm and bright, it felt almost like a relief from the sky he was staring into right now.

 _"I'm sorry, Blaine, and I love you and I forgive you. I just… I just can't be with you."_  Was what he said that Christmas; it had Blaine's heart shattered in a million pieces, in such a way that it would never be fixed again.  _"But I want to be your friend,"_  he had said,  _"You can't deny me this, you're my best friend!"_ , and Blaine agreed, but they both knew that it wasn't true. They weren't best friends anymore; they couldn't compete against Rachel and Sam.

And then Sam had the most amazing idea, and soon they were moving to New York.

Now he regrets, and he knows that, had he put some thought into this, they wouldn't have ever moved to nowhere. They would be right beside Finn, working against Sue and on the New Directions and everything would be alright, at least.

He didn't think, though.

Arriving in New York was the best time, and both Kurt and Rachel were there to pick them up, and help them with unpacking and shit, and he and Kurt were so close he could feel the boy's eyes at his back all the time. Then they went out, just the two of them, for a coffee and a walk, and maybe, Blaine thought, something would happen.

Nothing happened.

Time make sure to let them know that being in the same town didn't mean they were going to be together all the time because this was  **not**  High School. And that's what happened. Two and half years later, Blaine just keeps going on, because that's what he has to do. It makes everyone happy, and if everyone's happy, he doesn't necessarily have to be happy, right? Right.

"Blaine? Why are you up already? Or  _still_  up?"

Wh- What? Oopsie… Someone didn't notice day light coming through the open window. Someone missed a night of sleep. But it didn't matter. He would have time to sleep later…

Sam was always the first one to wake up; he always woke Blaine.

"I… Uh, I…" Blaine was once better at his excuses. They never fooled Sam, but he always let go. Not this time, though.

"Blaine, talk to me." Sam said, sitting beside him. "Talk to me because something's really wrong here. And I  _know_  that things are wrong from the beginning, but talk to me. Just… Talk. I need to know. I need to help you, I can't just lose you like that!"

Blaine smiled a weak smile.

"We talked about the future, and we discussed kids and where to live when we grew old. We decided names, our pets and our kids' education. We had it all, Sammy." He said, his voice so sad, so nostalgic it hurt the blond.

Sam's smile faltered, and Blaine's own smile was no longer there. Sometimes he wondered if, maybe, Sam was in love with him. But he knew better than that. Sam, too, had his own unrequited-old-love, going by the name of Mercedes. No one but Blaine ever knew that, but Mercedes was Sam's one true love. Only, the blonde was stronger than Blaine, and never let himself go because of Mercedes. He loved the woman to death, but it was over and yet he had dreams with her on a daily basis, and still knew her scent by heart, he was not going to pin over her for the rest of his life. The only thing that Sam allowed himself to have for the rest of his life about Mercedes was that blossoming love he felt for her. The pain wasn't allowed in the equation.

Sam was Blaine's own personal saint.

"I… It's nothing, Sam, really. I'll deal with this, I  **promise**. And I know I have promised before, but it's definite this time. They are moving in together. That's pretty final, I guess."

Sam nodded.

"Ok. I'll see you for lunch?"

"Sure." Blaine smiled. "Good morning, Sammy. Love you, bff."

Sam eyed him suspiciously, but ended up smiling too.

"Love you too. Good morning, bff."

Blaine eyed the empty room and smiled to himself.

He walked to the bathroom, prepared a bath, because he deserved one. In the warm water, his eyes started to flutter shut; he was sleepy. The bath took an hour. A whole hour of thinking, and singing, and smiling. He didn't cry once.

He left the bathroom, walking naked around the room, putting on his best clothes, and perfume, and shoes. He looked amazing. Also looked like an angel, with his perfect curls all wide for the world to see it.

He smiles again, and it's amazing for him how much he's smiling today. He debates with himself whether or not to curse his dorm. If he's being honesty, he's only worried about keeping Sam on the room or not. But he knows Sam won't stay anyways. So, yes, let's curse the room.

There's this blue little box inside of his personal shoe-box. It contains a necklace with a gold heart, with the inscription  **Kurt**  in bold. It's actually gold and just really pretty.

Under the necklace, though, there are a few pills. Five pills, to be exact. He puts on the necklace, and places the five pills on his nightstand, with a glass of water.

There's nothing else for him to do, really. Maybe he just doesn't really want to do that right now… No, he's not backing up. As he said earlier that morning, it was  _final_. He just… He's going to miss Sam. But he will watch out for him from wherever he's going, and he knows Sam will be just fine, because Sam will understand that he needed that. Maybe his best friend will hate him on the beginning, for giving up both on him and on himself, but he will end up understanding.

 

_“I want to be buried back at home and I don't want gel on my hair. I love you, Sammy. You are the best friend someone can ever ask for, the best person I've had the chance to meet. I'm fine now, I promise you this. You be happy. For me.”_

 

Was what wrote down in the note he fastened to his own shirt with a pin. There was no need to write anything else, anyways.

His side of the room was made, clean and neat, just like he was. His bad was made, too, and he sat on the bed, taking the five pills and drinking them one at time. Then, he laid down atop of the baby-blue covers and crossed his fingers, placing them right on his heart, just down the note.

When the dizziness came, he smiled, embracing it like a lover he hadn't seeing in so long, and his mouth opened at its own command, the melody coming out of it on its own accord.

 _"My head is saying "fool, forget him"; my heart is saying "don't let go! Hold on to the end!" and that's what I intend to do…_ _I'm hopelessly devoted to you…"_

He smiled.

"I failed, Heart, and I'm so sorry. But I held on to the end. I guess this is the end…"

_"But now, there's nowhere to hide, since you pushed my love aside, I'm out of my head… Hopelessly devoted to you… Hopelessly devoted to you…"_

When the last words stumbled out of his mouth, he closed his eyes, a content smile on his lips. He needed to smile for Sam. He needed to smile for Kurt.

The dizziness was calling him, and it felt so good…

So he sunk into the darkness and let it have him the proper way, because the darkness that plagues his days is becoming too much to fight. If it wants him, it will have him.

"I'm sorry, Heart…"

**Author's Note:**

> I just went through a crisis and I really wanted to delete this. But these stories did shape and meant a lot to me so, I don't know. I'll let them live or whatever. Just. Don't be mean to me, I'm sensitive.


End file.
